Worst Fears
by TheKillerofCharacters
Summary: Lovino was to watch Arthur's house while he was gone, but instead released a nightmare into the world. Now it's up to Alfred and Gilbert and their friends to defeat the evil creature before its loo late. But is this just a terrible accident, or is it a more sinister and complex plot in motion? (Mentioned GerIta and Spamano, implied Fruk, and a could-be-taken-as Rusame)
1. Chapter 1- Misplaced Trust

**Hello, this is my first fan fiction so I would truly appreciate any feedback, thanks.**

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Chapter 1: Misplaced Trust

"I'm trusting you with this, it is very important to-. Are you even listening to me!?" Arthur asked as he fixed his stern gaze on the man he was going to trust with his personal belongings while he was away for the weekend.

"Of course I'm listening, what else would I do other than listen to you drone on?" Lovino said in a bored fashion as he yawned and stood up from the couch he had been sitting on.

Arthur looked at the Italian and bitterly, wondering why no one else would help him in his predicament, and why of all people, Lovino agreed to do him this favor.

Lovino saw him staring and yelled, "Why are you staring at me!?" Arthur jumped in surprise to the sudden hostility.

"Just wondering what you're motive is in helping me, that's all," Arthur said, straightening his jacket.

"I personally don't like being near my brother when that potato eating bastard is around. You'd think he could find a better person to have a crush on, honestly!" Lovino said angrily, crossing his arms.

"Oh, I see," Arthur responded awkwardly.

"Whatever," Lovino replied gruffly, "just show me the rest of the house so I can get rid off you already."

"Right," Arthur led Lovino into the last room of the house, "This is my magic room," Arthur made a sweeping motion with his arm. The room was dark with drawings on the ground, candles in the corners, bookshelves overflowing, a plush chair by the door with a black cloak hanging off the side, and a small table in the center of the room with Arthur's most prized possession: his book of black magic. Lovino burst into a storm of laughter. Arthur turned to him red-faced and said, "Laugh it up now you mangy git, but when evil spirits are trying to suck out your soul don't look for me to save you!"

"Whatever, Harry Potter," Lovino replied.

"I take that as a compliment you know!" Arthur spat. Lovino shrugged and was about to sit in the comfy looking chair by the door when Arthur screamed, "Don't you dare sit in that chair, I cannot be investigated for another mysterious death!" Lovino stared at him, wide eyed and halfway to the chair, for a good minute before throwing up his arms and moving aside, not in the mood to argue with the lunatic. Arthur was relieved at Lovino's silence and continued to point out all the things he couldn't touch, which was pretty much everything. Arthur never noticed Lovino eyeing the black book on the center table.

"What's that book on the table?" Lovino finally asked.

"Huh? Oh, that's my black magic book, don't ever touch it, let alone read it. It's very powerful and dangerous," Arthur explained with an awe filled wonder.

Arthur led Lovino back out into the hallway and to the front door. "Well if you don't need anything else, I'll be going now," Arthur grabbed his keys and was halfway out the door when Lovino stopped him.

"Why am I watching your house again?" Lovino asked, realizing it was the first time the question occurred to him.

"Because last time I left the house alone Alfred broke in and rearranged everything," Arthur replied. Lovino rolled his eyes and pushed Arthur out, slamming the door behind him.

Lovino walked to the living room, plopped down on the couch, and turned in the TV. Lovino tried desperately, but couldn't seem to focus on the program he was watching. Instead, his mind kept wandering back to the black book in Arthur's "magic room". He remembered what Arthur said about it, but that just made Lovino more curious. Eventually, he turned off the TV and went back into Arthur's "magic room". He walked over to the table and fingered the book.

One part of Lovino wanted nothing to do with it, but another, stronger part of him wanted to read it and see what Arthur's fuss was about. He opened the book carefully, and flipped through the pages. He stopped on a page scrawled with writing and a picture of a cloaked and hooded man. The writing on the page was in a different language, Latin, by the looks of it. Lovino thought back once more to Arthur's warning, but and odd pulling sensation came over him, and he read the words aloud without ever realizing it.

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 **Sorry if it's too short or whatever, i hate getting into detail about places. This is going to be a really long story, but I personally think it gets better from here. Shipping comes in a few chapters, but it's really subtle.**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2- Lovino's Mistake

**Hey, hope you all enjoy chapter 2, leave a comment if you like it or want to point out a mistake. I hope you guys enjoy weirdness, because this chapter is, at least to me. Hell, most chapters are. You will also have to put up with not knowing what's really going on until the end, and I sincerely hope you love plot twists and emotional deaths(spoiler alert, but not really) just as much as I do.**

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Chapter 2: Lovino's Mistake

As Lovino read, the room darkened. The air stirred, making the candles flicker and cast huge, ominous shadows across the walls. Lovino became frightened as an invisible force tightened around his body until he couldn't move. His breathing became rapid and shallow as his lungs were constricted, making Lovino dizzy by the lack of oxygen.

Lovino tried to move, tried to breath, tried to _stop_ , but it was no use. It was as if his body was not his own, that he was only a passenger, a bothersome parasite in the back of another person's mind that could only see. His mouth read the Latin words rapidly, softer and with the elegance of a fluent speaker than when he was in control.

Lovino's forehead suddenly became very tense, a ruthless pounding with it. The tension and pounding became more intense the further he read, until it felt like his head was about to explode. Silent tears slipped down Lovino's cheeks.

Lovino was focused on the pain in his head, trying desperately to stop it, but his mouth read on to finally finish the page. A sharp pain coursed through his forehead, not a pounding, but as if he had been pricked by a sharp knife. The force, the constriction, the tension, the pounding, everything... just stopped.

Lovino fell to the ground, breathing deeply and holding his forehead, unable to comprehend what had just happened. His vision was still blurry, and when he tried to stand he fell. His limbs were drained of energy and he couldn't seem to get his breath back. He sluggishly checked his body for injuries, but couldn't find any. Odd, considering he felt crushed enough to break bones and leave bruises.

A tiny drop of blood ran down his nose, and Lovino realized his forehead was bleeding slightly. He touched the area tenderly, the injury was so small and so perfectly aligned in the center of his forehead that it couldn't possibly have been an accident.

"Damn Brit was right," Lovino muttered as he tried, and failed, to stand again. Lovino was about to try again when he heard a banging overhead. He looked up slowly to see the book shaking violently,as if something was trying to get out. It fell off the table, nearly crushing Lovino's head. A breeze seemed to circle the book, but the breeze quickly turned into a gale. Lovino was being pulled in, and tried to roll away, to little avail. Nothing else in the room was being affected by the strong winds encircling the book, so he grabbed a chair in hopes he could ride this out.

Lovino watched in horror as the pages of the open book turned black and started to drip onto to floor. The liquid pooled in a huge mass before the book, and the winds stopped. Then the liquid began building itself up into a lump. The lump stood over seven feet before its details began to form. The mass worked itself into a cloak, the hood pushed over its head. It didn't have hands, but dripping sludge coming out of its sleeves.

Lovino was paralyzed and could only watch as the candles blew out one by one. With each lost light, the thing moved closer to him. There was only one light left, the thing was inches from Lovino. As the light in the room went out, so did Lovino.

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Lovino woke to what sounded like a child humming, his head on fire. He stood looked around. He was no longer in Arthur's magic room, he didn't even look to be in Arthur's house. He realized he was inside the house he and his brother shared, and whispered, "What the hell," before heading down the hall towards the humming.

As Lovino went farther down the hall, he noticed it becoming more narrow and dark. He soon realized that it wasn't just the lights dimming, but that the walls were actually changing colors slowly, taking on an ominous feel.

Lovino kept walking, but the hall seemed to go on forever, a maze of lefts and rights that never went anywhere. It eventually got so dark and narrow that Lovino had to walk sideways, keeping a hand on both walls so he wouldn't miss a turn. He was just about to give up when he turned the next corner and saw that the hall had gone back to its normal size and a trail of blood leading to a single white door at the end of the hallway. The door was so white and unblemished it seemed to shine, forcing Lovino to cover his eyes as he advanced,stepping carefully around the blood.

When Lovino reached the end of the hallway, he opened the door timidly, afraid of what he might see. The door creaked loudly and the humming stopped. The only light that illuminated the room was that of the door. Lovino stepped in, and the door closed soundlessly.

Candles flickered to life and Lovino took in his surroundings. The room was a mess, tables and chairs flipped over and shattered, scratch marks on the floor and walls, blood everywhere. In the corner was a small, gaunt man chained to the wall, gagged a huddling in the corner as far as he could go. He looked to be seriously injured, chunks of hair pulled out to reveal the bloody scalp, arms twisted in odd angles, and skin that was cut and bruised everywhere.

Lovino took a few unsure steps forward, "Hello?" The man looked up, and Lovino gasped. Though his body was horribly mangled and dirty, Lovino would never, _could_ never, forget those big brown eyes. How could he, when he saw them everyday?

"F-F-Feliciano!?" Lovino cried, rushing to kneel by his baby brother's side. He pulled on the chains, but it was no use. He yanked the gag out of Feliciano's mouth and screamed, "How did you get here!? Who did this to you!?" Tears rushed down his face but he didn't care, all he cared about was getting his brother out of there and getting the sick son of a bitch that did this to him.

Feliciano sputtered blood and croaked, "Ludwig," before collapsing.

"Hey, hey wake up!" Lovino screamed, shaking Feliciano. More blood dripped out of Feliciano's mouth, but he never moved. "Wake up!" He screamed again, but it was no use, His baby brother was dead. "That potato bastard is going to pay for this!" Lovino screamed, crying harder.

"I wouldn't bet on it," a familiar German accent sneered behind him. Lovino barely had time to register what was happening when a sharp pain steered through his back as he was stabbed. He fell and tried to crawl away, but a kick to his side broke two ribs, and erased any chance of escape.

Lovino stifled painful moans as his blood pooled around him, both soaking and warming his shirt. He waited agonizingly for Ludwig to strike him again, but Ludwig appeared to be enjoying Lovino's suspense filled suffering, and for a few moments nothing happened.

The knife was abruptly pulled out, causing Lovino to shriek in both surprise and pain. Ludwig then yanked Lovino up, pinning him to the wall by his throat. Ludwig watched in sickening amusement as Lovino tried to push him away, but only increased the bleeding from his back. Lovino started to go limp, his only movement the rattling breaths from his broken ribs.

Ludwig then plunged the knife into Lovino's heart. Lovino's eyes widened and his body spazumed, and as his world darkened, his only thoughts were of how black Ludwig's eyes were.

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 **Well that was an emotional ride, wasn't it? Too bad Lovino won't be joining us in the later chapters, I was really liking his character. Oh well, leave a comment if it pleases you. Until next time.**


	3. Chapter 3- Spilled Pasta and a Funeral

**Sorry it's been awhile, I was on vacation. Finally meeting some more characters and getting to the ships today. Mainly GerIta, but some Spamano and Fruk too.**

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Chapter 3: Spilled Pasta and a Funeral

Feliciano hummed merrily as he skipped up the steps and rang Arthur's door bell. He felt bad about upsetting his brother by having Ludwig over earlier, and knowing that Lovino would be watching Arthur's house for the weekend, decided to bring him some pasta to cheer him up.

He sat there for 10 minutes, pasta in hand, repeatedly knocking on the door before realizing something was off. Maybe he's asleep Feliciano thought. He rang the door bell 5 consecutive times then began to worry at the lack of muttered curses that he associated with his older brother.

"If you're in there watch out, because I'm coming in!" Feliciano chirped as he flung himself at the door, which only succeeded in spilling the entire container of pasta onto his pants. He whined in protest to the lost pasta and failed entry attempt, but quickly realized the window to his left on the porch was partially open. He went to it and shoved it open.

Without looking inside, Feliciano squieled "Veee!" As he flung himself thought the window, not bothering to brace himself for the inevitable face-plant. He hit hard, cutting his lip on his teeth and sprawling into a table, knocking the vase off. It shattered inches from Feliciano's face, and he recoiled quickly and screamed. He was up quickly, rubbing his bleeding lip and shivering out of fear from his scare with the vase, which he didn't bother to clean up.

"Lovino!" Feliciano yelled, walking aimlessly around the house. He went down the hall, still yelling, when he abruptly stopped at the sight of a black door. He walked up to it nervously. "Lovino?" He asked, knocking on the door fearfully.

Feliciano was so caught up in his terror that he couldn't remember if he had opened the door, or if had done so itself. The door creaked as it opened slowly, revealing the bloody and mangled body of Lovino slumped on the floor, his right arm draped across a black book. Feliciano screamed and ran to his brother, shaking him and crying. The blood had clotted and was a sticky mess, clinging to Feliciano's cloths in dark strings, mixing with the pasta.

Feliciano cried, "Don't worry big brother, I'm going to call help!" He whipped out his phone and hastily called his speed dial, who wasn't there. Feliciano left a message then promptly fainted.

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Ludwig was sitting at his desk, filing paperwork when his cell phone went off. He saw it was Feliciano and elected to ignore it. He continued ignoring his phone until he saw that Feliciano had left him a message. _Odd, Feliciano never leaves messages. I guess it wouldn't hurt to see what he wants this time._ Ludwig thought as he sighed and played the message.

What Ludwig heard was a jumbled and inaudible mess of noises, it sounded like Feliciano was crying and hyperventilating. Ludwig rose quickly, pushed the chair back into its place in the desk, shoved his phone into his pocket, and headed to the door. _What the hell has he gotten himself into?_ Ludwig thought as slammed his office door shut and headed down the stairs to the front door. It was obvious Feliciano was in trouble, that happened on a daily basis, but this one seemed different to Ludwig. He couldn't place why he felt this, Feliciano cried and called him at the drop of pasta, but he had a weird feeling that told him it was more important and more serious than usual.

When he reached the door, he flung it open, knocking down someone. Ludwig was so surprised that he forgot all about his haste. He looked down to see his agitated older brother Gilbert. The small yellow bird that always accompanied him, Gilbird (Ludwig thought it was an absolutely ridiculous name but Gilbert wouldn't hear otherwise) flew in circles, chirping wildly. Gilbert jumped up, brushed himself off, and exclaimed, "Hey, watch where you're going, clutz!" He had expected his brother to respond in kind, but was shocked as Ludwig shoved passed him, muttering an apology.

Gilbert and Gilbird watched as Ludwig practically sprinted to his car and drove off. What the hell is his problem? Probably his Italian boyfriend-not-boyfriend in "trouble" again. Gilbert said to the bird, who chirped in agreement. Gilbert nodded and shrugged, deciding not to dwell on his brother but to call up an old friend and annoy the crap out of her.

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Ludwig speeded to Arthur's house (which was 14 miles away), and arrived in a record 7 minutes. He probably had a lot of red tickets from all those red lights he rsn, but he didn't care about those at the moment. His panick had risen the entire ride there, and Ludwig didn't even stop to knock or ring the door bell, he just broke down the door and ran inside.

"Feliciano!" He yelled, checking every room while maintaining his sprint. He stopped and waited after 4 rooms, hoping to hear something from his friend. Then he heard it, a low crying coming from the back of the house. Ludwig followed the cries until he reached a black door, and opened it without hesitance.

He stopped dead in his tracks and gasped when he saw Feliciano, crying and cradling what appeared to be Lovino's dead body. Feliciano hadn't registered Ludwig's presence and continued to whisper words of encouragement to his brother, unable to contemplate Lovino's death or ignoring the fact completely.

Ludwig slowly bend by Feliciano and put a hand on his shoulder. Feliciano jumped in surprise, but tackled Ludwig in a ferocious hug when he realized who it was. "I j-just found h-him this w-w-way, he's h-hurt badly and n-n-needs a d-doc-doctor!" He sobbed into Ludwig's chest. Ludwig just held him tightly, not wanting but needing to tell Feliciano about the situation.

Ludwig pushed Feliciano away softly and said, "Feliciano, Lovino is dead."

Feliciano's body wracked with new sobs as he screamed, "No,no,no,no,no! He's not dead, he's just hurt!" He beat Ludwig's chest as he did, but he was so weak Ludwig never felt it.

Ludwig hugged Feliciano and whispered, "I'm so sorry," and Feliciano energy seemed to drain as he stopped hitting Ludwig and fell into his embrace, sobbing quietly.

Ludwig slowly took out his phone, as not to disturb Feliciano, and called the police.

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2 weeks later

The police made quick work of the investigation, ruling it as an active case after a brief interrogation of Feliciano and Ludwig and a quick gathering of evidence. The funeral (which took place in a church as both the Italians were Catholic) was small, mainly because the brothers had no family left or many friends. The only people there other than the priest were a sobbing Feliciano, a solem Ludwig, Lovino's heartbroken boyfriend Antonio, a sympathetic Francis, a disbelieving Gilbert and Gilbird, Gilbert's plus-one Alfred, Alfred's twin brother Matthew, that-guy-that-no-one-likes-but-invites-to-everything-because-their-scared-of-him Ivan, and a very annoyed Arthur.

Everyone remained silent throughout the entire service, except for Arthur, who kept muttering to himself about demons and his spell book. He kept his thoughts to himself, but Alfred was quick to shut him up if others noticed his ranting. When the funeral ended, Ivan and Matthew left immediately, only stopping to console Feliciano. Alfred sat dazed, staring at Lovino's coffin as if he would come out and tell them it was all a big joke, Arthur got up to mutter his thoughts to Francis, Gilbert and Francis ran over to comfort Antonio with Gilbird trailing behind, who had broken out in fresh tears, and Feliciano clung to Ludwig, not acknowledging anyone else's presence.

Alfred snapped out of his daze and went to comfort Feliciano when Arthur suddenly appeared and commented, "Looks like your Japanese friend couldn't make it."

"Kiku doesn't like crowds," Alfred said, looking back at the mahogany coffin.

Arthur saw this and said, "It's his own fault."

"Kiku's for having a fear of people?" Alfred looked back at the Brit, confused.

"No, you stupid wanker! Lovino, he summoned something from my spell book!" Arthur whispered.

"You're crazy!"

"No, I'm not! I told him not to touch anything, but knowing Lovino he opened my spell book and read it! Who knows what he's released on the world!?" Arthur raised his voice and attracted the attention of a few bystanders.

"What's going on here?" Gilbert asked warningly, flanked by Francis and the still unstable Antonio. Gilbird didn't seem to be with him this time.

Arthur, not picking up on Gilbert's tone, replied, "I was just telling Alfred how the manner of Lovino's death was supernatural and his own fault."

"Arthur!" Francis gasped. Antonio looked as if he was going to cry again, but Gilbert put an arm around his shoulder protectively and shot Arthur a venomous glare.

"What, it's true! Who knows what he released from that book, for all we know, he could have released a demon into the world! Lovino might just have written death sentences for all of us!" Arthur yelled, turning all the heads in the church. Everyone gave an audible gasp and went silent.

The silence was broken by an sickening crack as Francis slapped Arthur full across the face. It was so sudden that Arthur had no time to prepare or defend himself, and fell backwards onto a pew. Arthur sat up, rubbing his red and bruising cheek, hurt and disbelieve sketched on his face as he stared at the fuming Francis.

"You disgust me," Francis sneered, flipping his hair and stalking off and out of the church. Gilbert looked down at Arthur, shook his head, and left with Antonio.

"Francis!" Arthur called out, but it was no use. He heard the rumbling of their car and knew he was gone. His hurt turned to anger and he roared, "Did you see what that frog did to me!?" The rose violently, but one look at Alfred made him sink back down in despair.

"You deserved it!" Alfred yelled, speeding off after the others. During the fight everyone had left the church, and Arthur hadn't realized it until Alfred left too. Alfred slammed the doors shut, making the sound echo. Arthur got up and went to Lovino's casket.

He looked down at the pale and lifeless man he had talked to only 2 weeks ago, and it dawned on him that he was the last person to talk to Lovino. "Why did you do it?" He asked the corpse. "What did you release?" Arthur looked at Lovino one more time and muttered, "God help us," before sinking to his knees in a fit of despair.

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 **So that just happened, don't be pissy if you like Arthur ok, I needed an asshole for the story and he fit. Don't worry guys, there will be more epic Alfred and Gilbert later. I would also like to apologize for not using Ivan in this chapter, but he comes in later and has chapter just following him, so if you really like Ivan just be patient.**

 **I have a game we could play, it's were you leave a comment telling me who you think is going to die next. I already have the story and how it goes, but it would be fun to get your opinion on the matter. So leave a comment if you're brave enough.**

 **Till next time!**


	4. Chapter 4- Be Careful What You Wish For

What **up guys, time for chapter 4! I would like to apologize in advance, this chapter is a tool to help figure out what's going on. Don't worry though, I will focus on the main characters in later chapters and also add more minor characters. But for now you get this.**

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Chapter 4: Be Careful What You Wish For

Kiku stared at himself pitifuly in the bathroom mirror. Lovino's funeral had been 2 hours ago, but he hadn't gone due to his social awkwardness. He had told Alfred that he couldn't attend because it was against Japanese tradition to look upon a dead body in such a crowded fashion, but that was a lie. If he were to be completely honest with himself, he didn't want to go because he knew his obnoxious American friend would probably make a commotion and draw attention to them, plus Kiku would be obligated to condole Feliciano, and he'd mess it up and embarrass himself, as he always does in social situations.

No, it was much better he had stayed home, Ludwig understood and comforted Feliciano for him. He looked himself up and down, thinking of his shortcomings. Kiku was depressed by his rudeness, but couldn't find a way around it. It's why he hung out with Alfred, to feel like he had a chance at friendships and to help him be social.

He thought back to his phone call with Ludwig earlier that day, when he told him why he wouldn't be attending Lovino's funeral.

 _"You must understand, I will just burden Feliciano more," Kiku had said._

 _"I understand, I just wish you would reconsider. I hate people too, but I'm going." Ludwig countered._

 _"You are much stronger than me Ludwig-san, plus Feliciano likes you more and would miss your presence and take it as an offense."_

 _Ludwig sighed, "Fine, but Feliciano and I are going to drop by tomorrow morning around 10:00 a.m.. He will want to see you."_

 _"That sounds good, are you bringing Gilbert?" Kiku questioned. It wasn't that he has a problem with the eldest German brother, it was his bird, who shit on his things and stole his sushi._

 _"No, he will want to stay with Antonio," Ludwig responded._

 _"Sounds good. Goodbye Ludwig-san."_

 _"Goodbye Kiku."_

"You pathetic coward," Kiku muttered to himself as he looked at himself one more time before turning off the light and heading to the kitchen for lunch. Lunch was sushi, with extra salt and white rice. He prepared his meal in silence, focussing on the task at hand. When he was done, he set his table and ate sullenly. Now that he was enjoying his meal, his thoughts when back to where they had been all morning.

 _Sometimes I wish I could stand in front of a crowd, a very large crowd that cheered for me, and to be able to bask in the sociableness of it all. Just to be free of my social anxiety and be more like Alfred. Either that, or everyone else just to be like me._ Kiku thought, finishing his salty sushi.

The room became colder and darkened. Kiku shivered, "I must have a draft," Kiku reasoned with himself. He suddenly became dizzy, and when he tried to stand, he collapsed, unconscious.

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When Kiku awoke, he wasn't in his house anymore. He was in a very dark room, but could make out outlines of piles of clothing and ropes. He stood and was about to search the room when it was flooded by light. Kiku covered his eyes and tried to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Out of nowhere, Alfred was there, wearing a colorful leotard. He saw Kiku and ran over to him screaming, "Dude I've been looking for you all over the place! We're about to start bro lets go!" Without another word, Alfred dragged Kiku through a heavy, velvet curtain and onto a stage.

the stage was full of his acquaintances: Francis, Arthur, Antonio, Gilbert, Ludwig, Feliciano, Matthew, and even Ivan, all dressed in the bright red and yellow leotards. "What is going on?" Kiku asked Alfred, confused.

Alfred rolled his eyes and proclaimed, "Duh bro, we're about to go on!"

"We?" Kiku's stomach flipped as dread filled it like a lead poison, weighing him down in anticipation to the answer.

"Uh, yeah bro!" Alfred yelled before running off to talk to Gilbert.

Kiku looked down at himself to discover that he too, was wearing a bright red and yellow leotard. He stared in disbelieving for a moment before he started to hyperventilate. He looked at the seats, which were filled with people he hadn't noticed before, hundreds of people.

Kiku would have fainted a second time in an announcement from Ludwig caught his attention. "Ok, everybody, now that the first act is finished, it's time for act two!"

"Act one?" Kiku whispered.

Ludwig looked over to him and nodded, "The opening solo act, Lovino, remember?"

Kiku nodded weakly, "And who is act two?" He understood.

"Why, you of course, Kiku," Ludwig grinned evilly and pushed him to the center of the stage. All eyes were on him, the room became pitch black except for a single spotlight that rested on Kiku.

His heart pounded, he didn't know what to do. He looked down at his leotard, but it was gone. He was now completely naked on a stage, being seen by hundreds of people. He felt weak, and as he looked back into the audience, they all laughed at him. It started so abruptly that Kiku covered his ears as a reflex.

He stood there in absolute shock, even when they began throwing rotten food at him, he didn't move. He was so afraid that his hair was beginning to whiten. Kiku wheezed, sweating crazily. His heart skipped a beat, than 2, than 3, than 4, than 5 beats.

The crowed disintegration back into Kiku's kitchen as he fell to the ground, white haired and a horrified expression that would never leave his pale, dead face.

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 **That was longer than intended. I'm sorry we weren't with the mains this chapter, but I needed to explain some stuff. Next chapter's the same too, but I believe that the chapter after that is devoted to Alfred and Gilbert's awesomeness. Sorry if you wanted Kiku to be in the story more, but somebody had to be obscure enough to to go. Obscurity on the next chapter too, I wonder who it is (not really of course). Until next time.**


	5. Chapter 5- An Expectedly Unwelcome Visit

**Hello people who read this story. Just so you know, this chapter is not apart of the original draft, I made it up on a whim to create a more detailed story. Introducing a new character today as well. I would like to apologize to everyone who expected there to be a lot of relationship parts in this story, but I did warn you, so it's really your own fault. Hope you like my whim chapter. By the way, how do you feel about love triangles, BECAUSE I LOVE THEM. I just changed part of the story to fit in my love triangle, but it's totally worth it.**

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Chapter 5: An Expectedly Unwelcome Visit

The thunder boomed loudly and the rain poured noisily on the roof, but Arthur only stared at the spot on the floor where his rug had been, unaware of the weather outside. Lovino had died in that spot, and the damned bastard took his favorite rug with him. At least Lovino hadn't bled out on his wooden floor, that would have been too costly for the Englishman. Yes, there were still blood marks stained into the wood where the rug used to be, but the wood was dark and they were hard to distinguish when the lights were dimmed.

Arthur sat in his chair, sipping his tea, staring at the blood stains, and contemplating the rather unusual situation. He looked through his Black Magic Book three times, but due to the rather mundane death, couldn't narrow down any possible suspects. There were dozens of things Lovino could have summoned, but something told Arthur it was a demon. The hard part was figuring out which one was responsible. The one interesting fact was that there was no supernatural trademark to the death that Arthur could find.

Every demon had a signature, low-level ones especially. They tend to haunt for days before murdering the victim or stealing the soul of an innocent. Lovino's death was quick and precise, no error or room for escape, meaning that it must be a high-level demon. There were thousands of low-level demons, but only seven high-level demons.

The high-level demons were: Greed, Jealousy, Aggression, Pride, Insanity, Seduction, and Fear. They each had their own way of manipulating a person into giving them their soul. Some took their time, others rushed, but they were all precise and rarely failed. Unlike their low-level relatives, it would take more than an exorcist to get rid of them, and more than a ouija board to summon them. They required great sacrifice to be summoned and banished from the human world.

But it was absolutely impossible for Lovino to summon one. To even get their attention you would have to be a powerful wizard, like Arthur. He knew no one who could match him, meaning he knew no one who could release such a demon.

Arthur sighed as he finished his tea. _I'm sure I'll figure this out, I am capable enough. But will I solve this puzzle in time to prevent any more deaths?_ He thought to himself. He got up and walked to the kitchen, placing the British flag mug into the sink carefully as he pondered the possibilities.

He stared out his kitchen window into the wet night sky. He involuntarily wondered what Francis was doing at that very moment. After he left Arthur went over to his house to apologize, but Francis wouldn't open the door. Arthur also called him, but Francis must have turned off his phone because it went straight to voicemail. _Maybe he just needs time, maybe by tomorrow morning he will have forgiven me for my behavior at the funeral,_ Arthur thought.

"You fool, he's probably sitting at home drinking his fine wine and enjoying the thought of me sitting here wondering if he'll forgive me. I will not give that frog the satisfaction!" Arthur chided himself.

Suddenly, his doorbell rang. Arthur jumped at the sound, but grew annoyed when he glanced at the clock on the wall to see it was 11:00 p.m.. _Who on earth could that be?_ Arthur thought as he hurried to the door.

The guest rang twice more to show how irritated he was with sitting in the rain. Arthur flung open the door and barked, "Who the bloody hell is it and what the bloody hell do you want at this bloody hour!?" He stopped and stared wide eyed and speechless when he recognized the newcomer.

Allistor Kirkland stood soaking wet on his doorstep. He wore a black overcoat and had a cigar hanging out of his mouth, which he protect tend from the rain with his hands. When he saw Arthur's expression, he grinned wickedly and pushed passed the stunned man into his living room.

Arthur snapped out of his daze, closed the door, and followed. Allistor peeled off his coat and hung it on Arthur's coat rack, but his manners stopped there. He picked out Arthur's favorite chair and sat in it, lazily sprawling his legs onto the coffee table. He ruffled his wet hair, sending droplets onto everything, including Arthur, in the room. Arthur sat in the chair parallel to his brother and fumed at his rudeness. He knew he was only behaving like this for him, and it only sparked Arthur's forgotten hatred Allistor.

Allistor took a long drag from his cigar and said, "I guess you're wondering why I'm here."

"Yes," Arthur answered, keeping his rage at bay by trying not to look at how wet Allistor was getting his favorite chair.

"Mom sent me," Allistor answered, bored with his brother already.

"Why in bloody hell would she send you all the way from England?" Arthur questioned. He was the only member of his family living in America. He missed his home country dearly, but moved here because the English were on to him being a wizard. It happened so abruptly, they just seemed to know one day, and Arthur was forced to leave alone. Allistor, though Scotish, stayed in England to keep tabs on their crippled mother. Their father had died years ago, and their mother had hip problems do to a demon attack. She was a very powerful witch, but had broken her hip and was forced to quit her profession of demon hunting.

"She wants to make sure her precious baby was ok," Allistor took another long drag and exhaled it in Arthur's face.

Arthur coughed and sputtered, "What would be wrong with me, you ass!" He waved the smoke away.

Allistor replied, "Someone was murdered in your house you nitwit! There's got to be at least some phycological trauma." He got up and went to the kitchen, returning with Arthur's good whiskey. He sat back down and promptly took a swig straight from the bottle.

"How did you find that!" Arthur yelled, making a grab for the bottle.

Allistor swatted him away and replied as if to an idiot, "I was forced to live with you for eighteen years, I know a few things about you."

"Fine, but how did you know about the murder!?" Arthur jumped up in his fury.

Allistor, not going to bothered to stand to match Arthur, said, "Mother gets worried and likes to check up on you. She is powerful enough you know," draining the whiskey by half.

"Unlike some people," Arthur commented. When Arthur was ten, he had very little power. Allistor had an unusual amount, for a sixteen year old. Their parents worried for Arthur, and watched as Allistor grew more rebellious every day. They concocted a plan to help Arthur be more powerful, but it involved stealing some power from Allistor, which they were happy about, Allistor was their least favorite due to his rude and disrespectful nature. They felt he had too much power for his own good and preformed a complicated, high-level, and irreversible spell to give Arthur some of it. They accidentally gave Arthur all of Allistor's power, but they quickly surmised it was for the best. Allistor had hated Arthur ever since, sparking their glorious rivalry.

Allistor's eyes widened and he stood slowly. Arthur was afraid, but only momentarily. Allistor looked him in the eye and said, "You must be feeling pretty bad about letting an innocent get murdered in your house, baby brother."

"It was a robbery, nothing I could do about it," Arthur said cautiously.

Allistor smirked, "Now brother there's no need to lie."

"How would you know anyway!?"

"Mother is very powerful. She was concerned that you might need some protection, from your own abilities. She sent me to look after you for a few weeks."

"Get out!" Arthur screamed, pushing the unsurprised Scot down the hallway.

Allistor let him, but commented as they traveled to the front door, "Don't worry brother, I'm not staying with you even though mother insisted."

"I wouldn't let you!" Arthur screamed back.

"No, that would be weird. I'm staying at a friends," Allistor smirked as Arthur stopped and grabbed his shirt.

"You have no friends here," Arthur said, but knew exactly who Allistor meant.

"Oh? Well that's funny, considering Francis insisted I stay with him during my visit," Allistor plucked Arthur's hand from his shirt and smoothed it.

"Why did you tell him you were here, and why before me!?"

"Jealous brother? Well I like Francis, we get along quite nicely. Unlike you lately." Arthur's face turned red and he thought of a reply, but couldn't. Allistor sauntered to the door and remarked, "Oh don't worry, Arthur, I'll tell Francis you said hi," before disappearing into the night.

Arthur slammed the door and went to make more tea. How dare Allistor show up out of the blue to insult him and try to steal Francis! Allistor always did that when Arthur was in high school. As a form of payback, he would steal every girl Arthur liked. Francis of course, was different. Allistor and Francis had been friends before Francis even met Arthur. This wasn't the typical stealing of a girlfriend, this was trying to pit Francis against him! He wouldn't allow it. Tomorrow morning he would go to Francis and BEG for forgiveness if he had to. Allistor will then have to find a hotel and hopefull get mugged in a parking lot and die. Arthur thought of his plans to sabotage Allistor's sabotage, and all thoughts of the demon were forgotten.

* * *

 **Finally done! Took a little longer than usual, but whatever. I have always loved Scotland and his rivalry with England. Their backstory was slightly rushed, so sorry if you think I left some things out. Comment if you like, or just like if you like. Or be be like me and don't do a thing, I don't care. Till next time!**


	6. Chapter 6- Sweet Dreams

**I'm back, as you can obviously see. Sorry it's been so long, I'm back in school and have a lot of things to do. No main characters today, but you will be learning more about the demon, kinda. Next chapter is going to be epic though, all about two of my favorites, Gilbert and Alfred. I love writing about the weird shit they do.**

* * *

Chapter 6: Sweet Dreams

It had been three days since Lovino's funeral. Matthew never cared much for the Italian, too loud and mean. He had attended though, not that anyone really noticed. Alfred hadn't even noticed he showed up. A few times he tried to talk to his brother before the funeral, but Alfred ignored him, as usual. He left quickly after the funeral ended, no need to comfort or talk with anyone if they wouldn't notice you. He didn't mind though, he was used to being forgotten. After the funeral he went to the rink to practice his favorite pastime, hockey.

Hockey was Matthew's life. It was the only thing he was good at, and it was the only thing that got people to notice him, even Alfred on rare occasions. He played on a team called "The Maple Defenders," and was the team captain. They were the best, winning every game they competed in.

He religiously attended his practices everyday, and today was no exception. Giving his A-game as usual, he clobbered his teammates. Practice was long and hard, but Matthew loved every second. When it was over, he and his Cuban friend Juan went for maple donuts.

They discussed the latest things going on in their lives, and departed when their after-practice snack was gone. Matthew drove home feeling content. He arrived at his house, grinning and thinking of the next hockey game he would attend. He carefully packed his gear into the closet and jumped on the bed. He snuggled up to his pillow and fell asleep instantly, unaware of the room getting darker and colder.

* * *

In his dream, Matthew was playing hockey for the gold in the Olympics, and he was absolutely killing it. He'd never had such a good game before, no one in history ever had. Matthew dodged around his opponents and shot the puck right through the goalies legs, bringing the score to 96 to 0. Matthew smiled as he was hugged and clapped on the back by all his teammates.

His team consisted of Alfred, Francis, Gilbert, and himself. His opponents were Arthur, Ivan, Ludwig, Feliciano, and Kiku. Knowing it was a dream he though, _This is the greatest moment in my life, even if it isn't real._ _I'm finally getting respect and attention from everyone. It's even nice to beat the people I don't like in hockey, but I wonder why Juan isn't here._

The fans cried out his name, eager for more, and Matthew planned to deliver. He began analyzing the other teams position to form a strategy, when he noticed one was missing. He did a double take and recounted, one was definitely gone.

Alfred skated up to him and cheered, "You're doing great bro! Ready for more!?"

"We can't play yet, one of the opponents is missing!" Matthew responded.

Alfred looked baffled, "Really, I don't see one missing!"

Matthew looked over the team once more and said, "Yes, Kiku's missing!"

Alfred stared at him for a good minute before asking, "Who's Kiku?"

"Kiku, your friend!"

"You get hit in the head with a puck or something?" Alfred commented before skating off.

Matthew sat there in disbelief, how could Alfred forget Kiku!? _Must be some weird subconscious jealousy I'm releasing over him,_ Matthew thought. They next play started and Matthew soon forgot the encounter.

This play became much different than the others, the opponents became _good_ at hockey and actually made it difficult for Matthew to score. Matthew was watching as Ivan dodged his teammates and headed for the goal. He quickly tried to catch up to him, but in his hurry he didn't see Feliciano and ran right into him.

Both went sprawling. Matthew looked over to the Italian, but thankfully he wasn't crying. Feliciano actually looked unfazed.

"Sorry," Matthew mumbled, trying to hide his agitation as Ivan scored a point.

"It's ok," Feliciano replied, suddenly looking depressed.

Guessing he was upset about Lovino even in his dream, Matthew asked, " Lovino, aye?"

Feliciano gave him an odd look before saying, "Who's Lovino."

Matthew was overtaken by a sudden panic and grabbed Feliciano's shirt, pulling him closer as he hysterically cried, "Lovino, your brother! Rude, Italian, hates Ludwig, over protective, Lovino!"

Feliciano whimpered and said, "I don't have a brother! Please don't hurt me!"

Matthew released him and he went skating off to tell Ludwig what had happened. Matthew sat there numb. Why was this happening in his dream, and why was he getting so upset about it?

The next play started. Francis passed Matthew the puck, and he charged towards the enemy goal. He was halfway there when out of nowhere, Ivan body-slammed him, sending him to the side of the ring. He hit his face on the wall, hard. Blood poured from his nose and he fell to the ground. He didn't need to feel the cartilage to tell it was broken. He got on his hands and knees in attempt to stand, but Arthur skated by at top speed, delivering a devastating hit to Matthews face with his hockey stick. Matthew fell back, blood flying from his mouth as he spat out three teeth.

His vision started to fade, but he felt the ground begin to shake and the ceiling crack. The last thing he saw was Ivan and Arthur standing over him, morphing into a huge black shape with red eyes and a sickeningly twisted grin.

* * *

Matthew woke up startled. "Just a nightmare," he sighed with relief. He went to get out of bed, but realized that he wasn't in his room. He appeared to be in a hospital room. The door opened suddenly and a doctor walked in.

"Ah, I see your awake." The doctor said. He had a thick accent, but Matthew was freaking out to much to notice it.

"Where am I?" Matthew asked.

"The hospital," the doctor answered lazily, flipping through the chart he held.

"What happened?" Matthew felt his nose and checked all his teeth, but everything was intact.

"You don't remember?" The doctor questioned, raising an eyebrow as if to signify he didn't believe him.

"I remember getting the shit beaten out of me," Matthew spat and tried to sit up,but couldn't get his legs to move. "What drugs do you have me on! I want to leave right now!" He screamed at the doctor.

The doctor looked at him as a child would a surprising but wonderful gift. "Ahhh, so you don't know. I was hoping to tell you considering it is my handiwork. I kept imagining your face in my mind. You were so horrified, it made me quite happy."

Matthew's eyes went wide and he leaned back, "What did you do?" he whispered. The doctor didn't respond, but smiled devilishly in a way that reminded him of the black figure Ivan and Arthur had morphed into. "What did you do to me!?"

The doctor's smile widened as he threw Matthew blankets off and replied in a calm voice, "Why don't you see for yourself?"

Matthew looked down with a horrified expression, tears slipped down his face but he didn't notice. He put his hands on his knees, or at least the spot they should have been. His entire legs were gone, barely even a stump was left. He kept feeling the stumps and below, as if this was all a cruel joke and he would awaken in his room at any moment, but he didn't.

The doctor looked at him curiously and asked giddily, "So, what do you think!?"

"What did you do to me?" Matthew whispered.

Upset by the lack of screaming, the doctor huffed and replied gruffly, "There was an earthquake, you got injured, long story short I had to amputate your legs."

"How do I know I'm not dreaming?" Matthew questioned.

The doctor pulled out a lighter and held a flame to Matthew's arm, making him help in pain. "See, not dreaming. At least not in the way you think."

"What am I going to do, I can never play hockey again!" Matthew sobbed.

"You could kill yourself," the doctor suggested, caressing the lighter.

Matthew looked up, "What?"

The doctor put the lighter back in his pocket and scoffed, "Don't play naïve with me, Williams. We both know that your worthless without hockey. Plus who's going to notice you now!? Alfred will never take care of you, much less help you. You'll be made fun of and lose the only friend you have!"

Matthew stared at him coldly, "And how do you suggest I do it?" The doctor placed a pocketknife in his lap. Matthew picked up the cold metal, "Can't you do it for me?" He looked at the doctor pleadingly.

For the first time since his appearance the doctor looked pitiful for Matthew. "It only works if you do it."

"Can I write a good-bye note?" Matthew asked, tearing up again. The doctor handed him a notepad and a pen and Matthew got wrote a quick apology and explanation to his decision. He picked up the knife and opened it slowly. There was one moment of hesitation, but it was overruled by knowing that the doctor was right, he could never be happy again and he'd only be a burden.

Matthew cried as he slowly dragged the blade across his neck. The wound was shallow, but would get the job done in a couple of minutes. Matthew sputtered in pain as he clawed at his throat, trying to speak but failing.

The doctor tisked and he watched Matthew die, unentertained by the show. He preferred a more gory and painful death, but this would tide him over until he could divulge in his passion again. Matthew stared at him helpless, and the doctor couldn't help but give him one last surprise, the kid had earned it, hadnt he?

He removed the glamour that had kept his face and voice from being unrecognizable off, and watched sadistically as Matthew's eyes widened in recognition before fading to a dull, lifelessness.

* * *

 **That took so long to write you don't even know. I'm quite proud of it actually. I didn't write the original draft either, and the doctor is new. He is of course, someone you know. I was going to put in more details about him, but figured I could do that over time. I'd love to hear who you think it is! Till next time.**


	7. Chapter 7- Police Work

**Sorry it's been awhile, I've been really busy with school and family matters. Finally getting to the more into main characters.**

* * *

Chapter 7: Police Work

Gilbert sat in the park, playing with Gilbird while he waited for his friend. "Where is he?" He muttered, Gilbird chirped curiosly in response. Alfred had called Gilbert to the park for what he called "doing the police's job". The meeting was supposed to take place an hour ago, but the American had failed to show up. "Maybe he forgot," Gilbert declared to his bird as he stood up with the intention of leaving. Just then, Alfred ran up to him, panting and bright red. "Did you have a nice run?" Gilbert teased at his out-of-shape friend.

Alfred flipped him off before saying, "I assume you know why I called you."

"I figured it was to discuss the murders going on." Gilbert replied, pulling blueberries out of his pocket to throw to Gilbird.

"Exactly, what do you think of Arthur's theory of a demon?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes and scoffed, "I think it's stupid."

Alfred blushed and sputtered, "Ah yeah, me to."

"Wow, Alfred, do you really believe that horse crap?"

"Well he se emed really convinced and-"

"Jesus Alfred! Demons, are you serious!? The man also believes in fairies and Captain Hook, do you think they exist too!?" Gilbert accused, drawing some attention from passersby. "I'll tell you what happened to Lovino, he was murdered."

"who would want to murder Lovino?" Alfred questioned.

Gilbert gave him an sarcastic look and replied, "Seiously?"

"Ok maybe he wasn't the most likable person, but murder?"

"True, but I think I now someone crazy enough." Gilbert said thoughtfully.

"Who?"

"Kirkland."

Alfred fumed and barked, "There's no way Arthur is capable of that."

"Lovino was murdered in his house, minutes after he showed up to watch the damn thing. Also, he was in Arthur's precious magic room. He could have gone in there and touched something and Arthur got pissed and murdered him or something." Gilbert reasoned.

"Yeah well someone who hates him more could have killed him!" Alfred shouted combatted.

"Like who?"

"How about Ludwig?" Alfred sneered.

Gilbert turned bright red and lunged at Alfred, pushing him down hard onto the grass, knocking the breathe out of him. "Don't you ever accuse my baby brother!"

Alfred caught his breathe and said, "ok sorry, sorry. I didn't mean that."

"No you're right, Ludwig could be a suspect. I just don't want to think of that, ok?" Gilbert apologized, helping Alfred up.

Both stood awkwardly before Alfred said, "We should check out leads or something."

"Sounds like a good idea, but where should we start?" Gilbert said, putting Gilbird into his pocket.

"How about we ask Kiku for advice?" Alfred said, brightening.

Gilbert shrugged and replied, "he doesn't like Gilbird."

"Of course he does, now lets go," Alfred said, dragging Gilbert off to his car. "This will be so much fun!"

* * *

Alfred sat on Kiku's doorstep, ringing the doorbell nonstop and shouting Kiku's name over and over. Gilbert looked through Kiku's window, but saw nothing. Finally he decided to call his brother, who picked up on the first ring.

"What do you want, Gilbert?" An exasperated Ludwig said.

"Wow, happy to hear you too, brother," Gilbert replied.

"If you don't tell me what you need in two seconds, I'm hanging up."

"Ok, ok. Is Kiku with you?"

"No, it's the strangest thing. I was supposed to drop by the day after the funeral, but couldn't. I called to reschedule, but he didn't answer. I figured he would call back, but completely forgot about that until you reminded me right now."

"So you forgot about your friend," Gilbert responded suspiciously.

"I've been dealing with a broken and clinger-than-usual Feliciano, I exhausted, ok?" Ludwig spat. A crash was heard on Ludwig's end and he cursed heavily in German, "I've got to go," before hanging up.

Gilbert sighed and told Alfred about his phone call. "Where could he be?" Alfred responded. "Considering the circumstances I find this appropriate," he muttered and pulled out a spare key to Kiku's house.

"Kiku really gave you a spare key?"

"'Gave' might not be the exact word I would use," Alfred smirked as he opened the door. Both men shuffled in, and a horrid smell overtook their senses. "Holy shit that's awful."They continued into the living room, covering their noses. Both stopped in their tracks when they saw bloated body of the Japanese man. "Kiku!" Alfred shouted in horror as he ran to the stinking body. "No, no, no!" he cried.

Gilbert didn't move, he just stared at the almost unregocnizable Kiku. He didn't even respond to Alfred yelling at him call an ambulance. He eventually pulled out his phone and called to police, reporting the murder. Alfred screamed incoherently as Gilbert pulled Alfred off of the corpse and dragged him out of the house and pushed him into his car. He silently waited with his despaired friend, sometimes trying to comfort him only to be shoved away. When the police showed up, he told them everything. Once the interview was over, he took Alfred home. "I'm sorry this happened," Gilbert told the now docile Alfred as he dropped him off.

"What happened to him?" Alfred asked, staring tears eyed at the ground.

"The police think it was a heart attack, but they're not sure yet." Gilbert responded.

"Did you see his face? He saw something, something truly terrifying. What do you think that was?"

"I don't know Alfred," Gilbert whispered as he drove off, reevaluating Arthur's demon story.

* * *

 **So that's chapter 7. It was a little rushed, but it's better than nothing right? I'm going to try to update more often, hopefully next week I'll put up the next chapter. Until then.**


	8. Chapter 8- Making Alliances

**Hello Friends, I am making some changes to the original story. I've decided to make it longer and focus more on how the characters are doing and dealing with the murders and each other.**

* * *

Chapter 8: Making Alliances

Francis stared at the discarded cigar buds on his coffee table. His house was usually very neat, mostly because all of his things were extremely expensive. His house was comprised of rich colored furniture and beautiful paintings. Francis tried his best to keep the place pristine, Allistor unfortunately did not share that desire. Allistor was now on his fifth cigar of the night and his second whiskey bottle (Francis had enjoyed a bottle of fine wine). Francis started to nod off while Allistor was in the middle of a story about his rebellious youth when someone pounded on the door. "Francis! Francis it's me, let me in!" Arthur yelled through the door. Francis looked at the door sleepily and then at Allistor, who stared at the door with a bemused smirk. "Francis I know you're mad at me, but this is ridiculous! It's been days since the funeral! Why won't you see me!?" Arthur shouted, pounding even harder on the door.

 _Days?_ Francis thought to himself. The last time he looked at the clock or at a calander was when Alliator appeared on his doorstep a few hours after Lovino's funeral. Whenever Allistor was around, time seem to disappear for Francis. The two would either go out on the town or get shit-faced drunk, but usually both. Arthur pounded on the door again, giving Francis a headache. He moaned in protest and shouted, "I'll be there in a minute!" before turning back to Allistor.

"Would you like me to deal with him?" Allistor asked, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes.

"No, a confrontation is long overdue between your brother and I," Francis replied, shakily standing and stalking irritably to the door. He opened the door wide enough so Arthur could see Francis but not Allistor, a fight between the Kirkland's never ended well and he already had a headache. "Hello Arthur," Francis muttered. Francis couldn't remember the time, but it was dark out. If he had to guess it would be around midnight.

"Francis," Arthur replied trying to sound friendly, "May I come in?"

"That wouldn't be the best idea," Francis said. Arthur's face darkened as he heard Allistor chuckle from inside the house. Before he could say anything Francis stepped outside and shut the door. "This conversation is between you and me only."

Arthur nodded and asked, "How are you?"

"Please just skip the formalities, Arthur," Francis said, his headache becoming more of a migraine.

"Alright, Francis, why didn't you call me back the day after the funeral?" Arthur asked.

"I didn't realize you called me, I was a bit preoccupied," Francis said, rubbing his temple.

Arthur huffed, "With my brother? Whatever, I just came to apologize."

"Yeah ok, I accept your apology. Is that it?" Francis asked annoyed, dots appearing before his eyes.

"What!?" Arthur fumed. He was genuinely confused by Francis' apathetic response. "Don't you want to scold me or something for my outburst at the funeral?"

"You're an adult, Arthur, I can't control your decisions. You're going to be an ass anyway, what could my scolding possibly do?" Francis screwed his eyes shut, the pain in his head becoming unbearable.

Arthur was about to say something witty in response until he noticed Francis was clutching the door handle in a death grip and wouldn't open his eyes. "Francis, are you feeling well?" Arthur asked, anger replaced with concern.

"Fine, just a headache," Francis muttered before collapsing on his doormat.

"Francis!" Arthur cried as he scooped up the unconscious Frenchman and carried him into the house. He stumbled into the lavish living room where Allistor was passed out on the love seat, an empty bottle of whisky grasped in one hand and a cigar hanging out of his open mouth. "Allistor wake up!" Arthur shouted, laying Francis down on the couch. Allistor stirred but didn't wake. Arthur rushed over to his brother and punched his shoulder, growling, "Wake up now you bloody wanker!"

Allistor's eyes shot open and he reflexively struck Arthur in the jaw. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" Allistor groaned, dropping the bottle and taking a long drag from his cigar.

"There's something wrong with Francis, he said he had a headache and then passed out!" Arthur yelled, "should we take him to the hospital?" Allistor looked hard at his younger brother and burst out laughing. "What's so funny!?" Arthur fumed.

"Francis is fine," Allistor replied easily, sitting up in the chair.

"How would you know that!?"

"Because he's just drunk, that's why. Stop overreacting."

"He didn't seem drunk," Arthur muttered.

"Francis never seems drunk until he's passed out," Allistor remarked. "He'll be just fine in the morning."

"You sure?" Arthur questioned. Allistor gave him a look that said just how little he thought of Arthur's opinion and curled back up on the love seat, obviously trying to sleep. Arthur gave one last confused look to the sleeping Francis before heading to the door. He pondered the death of Lovino, he was going to need some help in finding the demon, whether he liked it or not. Arthur sighed, turning back towards the love seat and asking "What do you think about Lovino's murder?"

Allistor sat up, annoyed at Arthur's inability to leave, "Dont you have somewhere to be? Or need to be in the morning?" Arthur kept quiet waiting for an answer. Allistor sighed and asked, "Who's Lovino again?"

"The man murdered in my house, remember?" Arthur said impatiently.

"Well it's not like I knew his name. His murder was definitely supernatural, but I'm not sure what could have caused it." Allistor said".

"The only culprit to such a murder would be a high level demon," Arthur said, knowing his brother wouldn't be too familiar with all the details of how different demons acted.

"Don't you need magic for that sort of thing?" Allistor questioned, flicking the last remaining piece of his cigar onto the coffe table.

"How would you know that?" Arthur asked suspiciously.

"I kind of studied it for sixteen years," Allistor responded dryly.

"Oh, right," Arthur said awkwardly. "Well, I was wondering if you wanted to help me catch it."

Allistor stared at him, shocked and sobered at the sudden proposal. Arthur never asked for help, let alone his. He must be truly desperate. "Alright."

"What?" Arthur asked incredulously. He had expected to be laughed at and tormented for even thinking Allistor would help him. Arthur watched Alliator for any betrayals of a smirk, but he was dead serious.

"I said I would help you," Allistor stated slowly, as if to a child.

"Good, I'm glad you see the gravity of this situation," Arthur responded.

"Swing by tomorrow at eleven," Allistor said, resign his head back onto the love seat.

"What about Francis?" Arthur asked, looking over at the dozing Frenchman.

"What about Francis?" Allistor snapped. "He'll come with us."

"But-!" Arthur started, only to be interrupted by Allistor shushing him.

"Don't wake him. He's coming, end of story. Do you really want to lose all the progress you made today by denying him the chance to help us?" Arthur shook his head softly. "Good, see you tomorrow." Allistor said before closing his eyes, signaling the end of the conversation.

Arthur silently left the house, wondering why the hell he had even invited Allistor along and then let him decide to take Francis. Both would be in danger, but he needed Allistor's advice and Francis could help...somehow.

* * *

 **Sorry this chapter wasn't too interesting, I want to focus on everyone's reactions to the murders and stuff. You know the drill: comment, like, or follow if you somehow find this interesting. Until next week.**


	9. Chapter 9- A New Player

**Hello again, dear readers. If you have read the last chapter before July 14, 2016 than I apologize for forgetting the title, I usually come up with them after I write the chapter and I forgot it until I started writing this one. If you didn't read chapter 8 before the 14th than disregard the apology (obviously).**

* * *

Chapter 9: A New Player

Ivan stood in his kitchen drinking vodka and thinking about what Arthur had said at the funeral. Though the others attending had brushed Arthur's claim of a demon off as "absurd" and "unrealistic", Ivan knew there could be some truth to them. Ivan himself possessed a bit of black magic, not enough to rival Arthur, but enough to make people notice something off about him. _There's no was it was a demon, Lovino was stabbed,_ Ivan thought to himself, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that something was truly off. He rubbed his temple, _I wouldn't even be worrying about this if Alfred hadn't called me to complain, this is why I left the damn funeral early in the first place!_ As Ivan was preparing another bottle of vodka, the air started to get colder, and a small gust of wind made Ivan's scarf rustle.

Ivan lookd around frustratedly and said, "I know you're there spirit, what do you want from me?" Just then a loud crash echoed through the house, the noise seemingly came from the living room. Arming himself with his trusty pipe, he walked gingerly into the living room to find his coffe table was shattered. Cursing in Russian, Ivan knelt by the broken table and examined the peices. There was a black sludge on them, something Ivan regognized as being supernatural. The winds were stronger now, and the temperature was close to freezing, not that Ivan noticed. His mind raced in thoughts of what could have done this. A demon most likely, but why? Ivan heard a small creak behind him, and quickly stood and spun to face the noise, reading himself to attack.

There stood a creature even larger than Ivan. It wore a black hood that covered all of its body, black sludge dripped from its sleeves, and it almost seemed to be flouting on black mist. As the figure moved closer to Ivan, it's hood was pushed up, revealing a pit of nothingness. _Despite_ a demon clearly out for blood moving towards him Ivan felt no fear, in fact, he seemed more amused than anything else.

"Alright, if this is how you want to play, than I will gladly make you wish to see hell again," Ivan quipped as he trust the pipe at the cloaked figure. Ivan had enchanted the pipe long ago, making it possible to deal with demons when they appeared. The demon stumbled back a few feet, and just as Ivan was about to hit him again when two blood red eyes peaked out from behind the hood. Ivan stopped, confused at the demon's sudden revealing nature. The figure glided over to Ivan and put a hand on his chin, forcing him to look into its eyes. Ivan stood paralyzed, feeling the demon search through his soul. When the demon was finished, it disappeared.

"Strange," Ivan remarked. The demon hadn't taken anything, it just seemed to be assessing Ivan's strength. Ivan concluded that the demon hadn't expected him to have magic, and now has changed its plans to accommodate such prey. _I need to talk to Arthur about this,_ Ivan thought as he hurried to his car. When he reached his car, he noticed blood dripping out of the trunk. Ivan readied his pipe and slowly approached the trunk. He unlocked it and threw it open, only to reveal a horribly mangled and bloody body of a young man. All of its limbs were broken and bent on themselves to fit in the small compartment, the blood was clotted and sticky, and the boy's face was covered in bloody golden locks. Ivan put on his gloves and tenderly lifted the boy's head. The neck had a shallow cut across it with what looked to be claw marks around the cut. He brushed the hair from the corpse's face and gasped from shock, dropping the head and slamming the trunk shut. He looked around the street to see if anyone was there, but the street was empty. Unusually empty for 10:00 a.m..

"Right," Ivan said, climbing into his car, "now all I have to do is figure out why the body of Matthew Williams is in my trunk."

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Ivan pulled into Arthur's driveway at 10:30 a.m., just in time to catch him leaving. Arthur was pulling out of his driveway when Ivan blocked him with his car and ran over to him, leaving his car in park but still running. Arthur angrily rolled down his window and yelled, "What the hell is your problem Braginski!?"

"My apologies, but I need your help," Ivan stated, pulling Arthur out of his car and dragging him towards the body-bearing trunk of his own.

"What the bloody hell! Just tell me, don't drag me!" Arthur screamed, drawing the attention of some neighbors.

"I believe your hypothesis is correct about Lovino's death," Ivan said, releasing Arthur.

"How would you know about my theory? You left before I said it."

"Alfred told me."

"Of course he did," Arthur muttered, momentarily hating the American. Just then, his phone started ringing. He picked it up to reveal Alfred was calling him. He quickly apologized to Ivan and answered the phone, asking "Well speak of the devil, what do you want Alfred?"

Ivan heard babbling on the other end of the phone as Arthur's eyes widened in shock and fear. "Something wrong, Arthur?"

Arthur hung up the phone and said, "Yeah, I have to leave," before sprinting back to his car and backing up over his lawn to avoid Ivan's car.

"Oh no you don't," Ivan muttered darkly before getting back into his car and speeding to Alfred's house. When he got there, he was surprised to see that Arthur was not. "I swore he was talking to Alfred," he stated aloud, "Where could he be?"

"He isn't coming," Alfred said suddenly from the porch. He had been sitting on a lawn chair and practically out of sight, making Ivan jump at the unexpected voice.

"Alfred, I overheard a conversation between you and Arthur, I thought he would be here," Ivan said, trying to justify his sudden appearance.

Alfred stood up, revealing a puffy face and running nose. "Yeah well, Arthur has better things to do than console me right now apparently."

Ivan rushed over to the crying American, hugging him tightly and frantically asking, "What happened? Are you hurt?" Ivan began looking him over for injuries. "If anyone hurt you-"

"No one hurt me Ivan," Alfred interrupted. "Kiku died a few days ago, I found his body yesterday."

"Kiku? That doesn't make any sense. What happened to him?" Ivan asked, fully convinced the demon he battled earlier had something to do with it.

"Heart attack," Alfred sniffled, burying his head into Ivan's shoulder, "You should have seen the look on his face, Ivan. It was pure terror. His hair was white and his face was all twisted, like he saw a ghost or something."

"Or something," Ivan muttered. "Let's get you inside," he led Alfred into his house and sat him down on the couch. "You want to talk about it?"

"No," Alfred whispered, clutching Ivan jacket. "Why were looking for Arthur?" Alfred looked up, tears in his eyes.

Ivan couldn't possibly tell Alfred anything that had happened. First off, Alfred didn't even know he possessed black magic, and telling him a demon story would scare him. He also couldn't tell Alfred about Matthew, Alfred would be broken, especially when hearing about the suspicious circumstances in which Ivan found the body. "Oh, he...owes me money," Ivan lied. It was a crappy lie, but Alfred wasn't thinking clearly and accepted it without hesitation.

After a brief silence, Alfred asked, "Ivan,will you stay with me? Just until I can get ahold of Arthur? I really can't be alone right now."

Ivan looked at the poor boy in his arms. He truly felt bad for Alfred, and any thought of finding Arthur or the rotting corpse in his trunk were forgotten. "Of course, I will stay with you as long as you need." Alfred smiled his first smile since before finding Kiku. Neither said anything, they both sat there, enjoying the silence.

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 **This chapter was a little all over the place, but I believe you guys can handle it. Comment, like, fav, or whatever. Until next time.**


	10. Chapter 10- Too Close

**Hello again, sorry I upload chapters so late, I don't get much time during the day. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 10: Too Close

"You're late," Allistor said dryly, eyeing the clock that read 11:05 a.m..

"I was...distracted," Arthur replied, cold and annoyed on Francis' door step. Allistor was late to everything, and by much more than five minutes. The only reason he was giving Arthur shit was because he saw an opportunity (though small) to be an arrogant prick for no reason.

"What distracted you dear brother?" Allistor asked with mock concern for anything other than wasting time.

"A neighbor, will you let me in now?" Arthur huffed, trying to push past Allistor. His aggression landed him on the floor as Allistor shoved him back roughly.

Thankfully, before a fight could break out, Francis appeared behind Allistor and said, "Now now boys, no need to fight." He walked cheerfully past Arthur, dragging Allistor by the arm to Arthur's car. He turned expectantly to Arthur and said," Are you coming or giving me the keys."

Arthur strode over to Francis and remarked, "You don't seem hungover."

"Aspirin dear Arthur," Francis said before ushering Arthur to unlock the car. Arthur did just that, making sure Francis got in the front before proceeding to get in himself and start the car. Once situated Francis asked, "Where are we going?"

My house," Arthur responded quickly before speeding off.

* * *

"Find anything yet?" Francis asked boredly, sprawled on the couch in Arthur's living room.

"Yes I think so, look at this," Arthur said excitedly, holding his black magic book up for Francis and Allistor to see. "It's the demon of fear."

"Doesn't a demon of fear get people to commit suicide by scaring them or something?" Allistor asked, flicking his cigar bud onto the carpet and lighting another one.

"Yes, it shows them their darkest fear in a most horrendous and extreme fashion, praying on its victim's weakness. The demon puts them in a trance and makes them believe that the only escape is death," Arthur elaborated.

"Well then it can't be the demon of fear then,can it? Allistor stated.

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur asked, raising one of his bushy eyebrows in confusion.

"Demons of fear make people kill themselves, Lovino was stabbed. Stabbed in a way that it could only be murder," Allistor replied.

"Yes well, the more powerful demons of fear require a sacrifice to release it and a sacrifice to put it back. Lovino was obviously the sacrifice to release it from hell!"

"If it even was a demon," Francis muttered, yawning and checking his phone for the 100th time.

"Arthur, only one person has died, and that is Lovino, who was murdered," Alliator explained.

E"That's not true. Alfred called me this morning, said that Kiku had died of a heart attack. The look on his face was contorted as ifhe was terrified," Arthur responded. Both Francis and Allistor looked up, completely shocked. "What?"

"Are you telling me that Alfred called you about his dead friend and the first thing you thought about was demon hunting!?" Francis screamed.

"Yes! The sooner we catch this thing the fewer people will die!" Arthur shouted back.

"What about Alfred, the poor boy must be heart broken?" Francis said, clutching his chest as if just mentioning it brought actual pain to himself.

"Listen Francis, I feel for Alfred, I really do. What happened to Kiku was tragic, but not an accident. We have the power to stop this from happening to anyone else. I'm sorry if I'd rather do the right thing then comfort my friend," Arthur replied, softening his voice.

"You're unbelievable," Francis whispered as he stalked out of the house, slamming the door.

"Nice going Arthur," Allistor said, "The second you get him back you screw it up."

"Shut up, Allistor!" Arthur fumed, more mad at Francis than Allsitor. Alliator raised his hands in surrender before getting up and heading towards the hall. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"To the bathroom, if it's alright with his royal pissyness."

"Fuck you," Arthur replied, watching Allistor head down the hall. "And don't go in my room!" Arthur slumped into the couch and thought _What have I done? I should have comforted Alfred, now none of them will talk to me ever again!_ His sulking was interrupted when he sat on something small and hard. Arthur got up and saw Francis had left his phone. Arthur silently cursed and picked it put, studying the design of the rose on the case. Out of curiosity, Arthur looked through Francis' phone (Francis had told him his password was 1799- the year the French Revolution ended) and saw that he had three missed texts, all from Allistor, all from today. Confused, Arthur decided to read them.

The first text from 11:15 said, "Hey where are you?"

The second text from 11:30 said, "Did Arthur show up and convince you to leave me or something?"

The third text from 12:00 said, "Whatever, tell Arthur I'm not helping him if he's just going to pull this shit. I'm surprised he got you in on it. Have fun on you're demon hunting date."

Arthur hands started shaking so badly he dropped the phone. Looking down the hall and seeing it empty, he decided to chance it. Getting up slowly, he walked to the front door. Each step was agony, feeling like a year in between each. When Arthur finally reached the door, it wouldn't open, no matter how violently he shook it. Suddenly his phone started buzzing and he yelped in suprise. Arthur looked at his phone and saw that it was Francis who was calling. He felt terror seize his body, and shakily lifted the phone to his ear and answered it, whispering, "Who are you?"

"Why brother, I'm exactly what you said I was," the voice came from both the phone and from right behind him. Arthur tried to chant a spell of protection, but a paralyzingly pain took over him as the temperature dropped over 30 degrees. Arthur cried out in pain as spots danced before his eyes. He felt a hand grip the back of his head right before it trust his face right into the door. Arthur dropped to the floor, blood gushing from his broken nose. He sputtered and gasped until he couldn't fight it anymore, and everything went dark.

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 **This took me longer than I'd like to admit to come up with, but it's pretty interesting. I came up with it on the fly because I was getting bored of the lack of action and felt you guys were too. Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.**


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